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Location: Midwest, United States

Saturday, April 02, 2011

Empty Hands

These hands once
Held water

Fingers gave pleasure
Calluses were
Proof of good work

These hands once
Cupped soft breasts
And fragile birds

The scars
Whisper stories
Best forgotten

These hands
Conveyed love

Empty now


* * *


Blogger June Calender said...

You're on a wonderful roll, Jonas! I especially like hands -- as things and as subjects of poetry.

Sat Apr 02, 07:04:00 AM  
Blogger PattiKen said...

And those hands speak of strength and tenderness. Love this.

Sat Apr 02, 10:17:00 AM  
Blogger Kass said...

Very lovely. I collect pictures of hands. They are so telling.

Sun Apr 03, 06:54:00 AM  
Blogger Jonas said...

Thank you.

Sun Apr 03, 11:53:00 PM  
Blogger Wine and Words said...

Sometimes there is no work that can be done. Sometimes time is the only thing we hold and it is weighted with the minutes that march across our palms in aggitated worry. Helplessness is a priar patch and we tatter ourselves with it as if our own blood might heal, as if feeling it is actually doing SOMETHING! To wait, with no control, is the hardest task.

Mon Apr 04, 02:56:00 PM  
Blogger Sandy Duke said...

Wow...I stumbled upon your blog in search of a photo of hands. Not only is the photo awesome, but your poetry is beautiful!

May I use your photo to illustrate a future blog post?

Thu May 05, 10:09:00 AM  
Blogger Jonas said...

Hello, Sandy. Thank you for the kind words. The photo is not mine, it's an image I discovered on the Internet. All respect and accoldes belong to the photographer who offered his/her vision.

Thu May 05, 10:18:00 AM  

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